


Better Than New

by jumbled-nonsense (notsodarling)



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Cosmic Love Exchange, Gen, M/M, Pacific Rim AU, Two Idiots Who Just Need To Talk, we are cancelling the apocolypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-02 00:55:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20267368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notsodarling/pseuds/jumbled-nonsense
Summary: Michael is standing in the cafeteria, tray in hand, when he sees him. He's standing several tables away, chatting with some ground level techs, all smiles and laughs, and Michael almost drops his tray.Alex Manes.It's been three years, seven weeks, five days, and some odd hours since the last time they saw each other. Before the accident. Before Alex lost his leg below the knee. Before Alex had to give up piloting and started teaching instead.





	Better Than New

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beamirang](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beamirang/gifts).

> This is for the lovely and amazing beamirang for the Cosmic Love Exchange on tumblr.

Michael is standing in the cafeteria, tray in hand, when he sees him. He's standing several tables away, chatting with some ground level techs, all smiles and laughs, and Michael almost drops his tray.

Alex Manes.

It's been three years, seven weeks, five days, and some odd hours since the last time they saw each other. Before the accident. Before Alex lost his leg below the knee. Before Alex had to give up piloting and started teaching instead, taking up a position as Fightmaster at the Academy.

Michael doesn't like to think about their fight. Of the things they'd said to each other, the viciousness with which Michael had accused Alex of being a pilot for the glory - something that could not have been further from the truth. But Alex had seen through him, like he always did.

He'd called Michael a _ miserable liar _, and well, Michael couldn't argue. Not when it was true, and they both knew it.

His hair is longer than Michael remembers, and there's an itch he suddenly finds himself with, desperate to touch, to feel. He wants to apologise to Alex. Tell him he's sorry he didn't visit. That Michael had been terrified the moment he'd first heard of Razorback's attack, and that Cosmic Nomad had been deployed. That he hadn't known how to breathe as he waited for updates.

How he'd felt like a coward when he hadn't immediately packed up and traveled to Anchorage to the Shatterdome to see Alex. How instead he'd buried himself in his work in Los Angeles, trying to block out the noise of his brain, and his conscience telling him what a mistake he was making.

"Michael?" Isobel asks from where she's sitting at the table he was about to sit down at. He knows she's followed his line of vision when a quiet, "_ oh _," escapes her lips. 

Suddenly, Michael isn't hungry. He drops his tray on the table in front of Isobel, and heads toward toward the nearest exit.

\----

Maria slides into an empty bench, picking up a drivesuit helmet and inspecting it, waiting for Michael to acknowledge her. He doesn't, not right away. But there's a bottle of bourbon now, and two empty glasses, and he's always been grateful that she never visits empty-handed.

"I know what you're doing," she starts, dropping the helmet to fill the glasses.

"And what's that?" 

He tightens a loose screw on the Drivesuit, and turns toward her. He started this project three years ago, and he's been constantly tinkering and perfecting it for the last two. It's more than ready to be worn by the pilot it's designed for.

"You think it's easier to hide away in here-"

"I'm _ working _, DeLuca."

She raises an eyebrow, seeing through the lie, because she knows exactly who the Drivesuit is for. There have been drunken chats and drunken hookups, and if anyone knows the details and reasons, it's her. Because Michael couldn't help it when he was feeling particularly maudlin, and he'd been unable to stop the need to dull the ache in his chest, and Maria had agreed to _ easy _ and _ absolutely no strings _. She knew he was head over heels in love with Alex Manes.

And Maria? Maria would share how she hated that she kept falling for straight women.

"Just talk to him."

Michael rolls his eyes, suddenly forgoing the glass and drinking directly from the bottle.

"He can come find me if he wants to talk."

\----

Michael gives in. Watches from the wings of the combat room as Alex oversees Rangers testing compatibility. The recruits are all in their early 20's, eager to find someone they have drift compatibility with, eager to get into a Jaeger, and eager to fight.

Their overeager attitudes are opposed by Alex, who constantly reminds them of the realities of what can happen out there, of how easy it is to lose - not just yourself, but your co-pilot, or even your own life. It reminds Michael how he'd heard Alex had still been connected to his older brother, Hunter, when he'd been pulled from the Conn-Pod.

Michael has worked with Jaeger pilots for so long he knows something like that leaves scars.

He watches as Alex demonstrates techniques, he stays and watches as Alex doles out points as the Rangers pair off, and critiques their stances, their strikes, how they move against their opponent.

It's only when there's a small lull in the action on the mat, when Alex turns his attention toward Michael, that Michael turns and flees the room.

\----

Isobel wakes him up from a nap in his apartment later that night. She busts into her room like she's done since they were kids - without knocking, and uncaring whether Michael was alone or even if he was wearing clothes.

She throws a pillow at his face, and sits down at the stool to his drafting table, kicking her feet up and resting them on the edge of the mattress, making sure to kick Michael's foot as she does.

"Whattya want?" He mumbles into the pillow she threw at him, burying his face in the cotton.

"To tell you you're an idiot."

Of course, Michael thinks.

He rolls over, pushing himself up to lean against the cool metal of the wall.

"Morning to you too."

Isobel scoffs, rolling her eyes.

"There's an entire freaking Jaeger out there in the bay that is ready to be piloted and deployed, and you won't let anyone in it!"

Michael glares at her, because what if he's spent the last three years rebuilding Cosmic Nomad, so what if he's spent the last three years piecing her back together, channeling all his anger he feels at himself, into restoring her. It's _ his _ project, and she has a pilot.

"Is there coffee?"

Isobel nods toward the table by the door and two metal mugs. With a small smile, Michael leans over and grabs one, not caring if he burns his tongue. He just needs caffeine for this conversation.

"I say this because I love you, but _ talk to him. _"

He doesn't reply, just cradles the coffee mug in his hands, taking another sip, trying not to wince as it burns his tongue. Again.

"Everyone involved in the Jaegar program, and I do mean _ everyone _, Michael, knows. There is a pool going on how long it takes you two-"

Michael drops his mug on his lap, spilling coffee everywhere.

"You deserve that," Isobel supplies, unhelpfully.

She stands up to leave, picking up the remaining coffee mug and taking a sip, before pulling the door open and pausing, glancing back at him.

"He’s here for two weeks. Don’t be stupid.”

\----

He finds Alex in the holding bay, sitting on some scaffolding, watching technicians scurry around on the floor below. It's closer to night, though time all bleeds together when you're constantly on alert for the next attack. Michael is out to make some adjustments to Cosmic Nomad, some more minor adjustments and tinkering that he jotted down while half asleep the night before.

"Hey," Alex calls out from his spot, stopping Michael in his tracks. 

He looks, _ fuck _, Alex looks like he always looks - like the person Michael fell in love with more than fifteen years ago. 

Michael climbs up to where Alex is sitting, falling into the spot next to him, letting his legs hang over the edge. Alex is leaning up against a column, his right leg spread out in front of him, the left dangling over the side.

"You've been busy," Alex says, like it isn't obvious and staring them right in the face.

Michael shrugs.

"Who's gonna pilot her?"

That gets Michael's attention, because surely Alex knows there has only ever been one person who _ should _ be piloting Cosmic Nomad again. He shakes his head, almost laughing at the absurdity of Alex believing he's never getting in a Jaeger again. 

"I can't - Guerin, _ you know I can't _."

"Bullshit."

Alex starts to push himself to stand, one hand braced on the column to pull himself up, and Michael reaches out to stop him - there’s a voice in his head that knows, _ knows _, what a bad idea it is, but he does it anyway because why can’t they ever get this right.

“Will you just - will you just let me show you?”

The words spill out of Michael fast and hurried, like if he doesn’t say it now, he’s never going to get the chance again. And more than anything, he wants to fix this between them.

Alex rolls his eyes, but he nods, and Michael feels like a tiny bit of the weight sitting on his chest has been lifted.

It’s a start, right?

\----

It’s always been the three of them - Max, Isobel, and Michael. 

Right from the very start, with the earliest memory the three of them share. 

Max and Isobel had been content, adopted almost immediately, loved and cared for their entire lives. But Michael. He had bounced through the system, before finally ending up emancipated and on his own, living out of his truck.

K-Day changed a lot of things.

Max, desperate to do _ good _ in the world, had wanted to attend the Academy. But he refused to drift with anyone other than Isobel, and it was a surprise to absolutely no one that they were compatible.

Michael had ended up in the same place with them out of sheer force of will - showing up and proving his abilities as a mechanic up and down the coast, making a name for himself the only way he knew how.

\----

It’s normal to find Rangers training at all hours, but what Michael doesn’t expect to find is Alex on the mat with Kyle Valenti, half of the Shatterdome’s K-Science team. He’s heard the rumors about Valenti, how he started the Academy thinking he’d sail through, become a big shot pilot, in it for the fame and glory. But somewhere, something had changed, and his trajectory changed.

These days, you can usually find Valenti elbow deep in studying the remains of the kaiju that come through the breach, hoping to understand them.

Michael watches from the doorway as Alex gets Valenti on his back, staff end mere inches from Valenti’s face. He knows they can’t see him from here, and despite how wrong it feels to listen and watch, he can’t look away.

“Anger issues, Manes?”

Alex laughs, and holds his hand out to help pull Valenti up.

“You wanna talk about it?”

Alex doesn’t answer, but motions for them to reset. Michael watches as Kyle shakes his head, following the instruction, the staff twirling in his hands.

Several hits later, Alex once again has Valenti on the mat, and Michael can’t help but smile watching the way Alex moves, long and fluid and practiced. He knows what a stubborn asshole Alex can be, he’s intimately familiar with it, so it doesn’t surprise him that Alex is moving like he’d never gotten injured. He probably hates even letting people know that there’s something different about him.

“No seriously Manes. Is this family anger or Guerin anger?”

Finally, it’s as if something snaps in Alex, and Michael is surprised when he uses his staff to smack Valenti across the back, sending him flying off to the side.

“You’re an asshole, Kyle.”

“Ah ha! So it _ is _ about Guerin!” Kyle is all smiles, pressing one end of his staff into the mat, and leaning on it, like he’s about to get some hot gossip like some teenage girl. “Did you see-”

“I saw.” Alex pauses, but his back is to Michael, and Michael wishes more than anything in that moment, he could see what was going on with Alex’s face. 

“I’m not gonna stick my nose in your business-”

“Like that’s ever stopped you before!”

“Hey! I’m a great friend,” Kyle jokes before continuing. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you. All I know is that _ he rebuilt Cosmic Nomad for you _. And, please don’t kill me but, I’ve seen the way you look at him when he’s in the room. Just - there’s no harm in a conversation.”

There’s a pause, and Michael swears he sees the tiniest nod from Alex, which has his heart skipping a beat in his chest.

Maybe Valenti isn’t so bad after all.

“Can we get back to training now, asshole?”

\----

Michael walks into the Conn-Pod first, taking a deep breath and trying to settle his nerves, as Alex follows him in. He pauses, tapping something out on the control panel, before turning around to watch Alex.

It’s nothing short of breathtaking to watch Alex take in all the adjustment and changes he’s made during the restoration. 

“She’s uh, she’s still nuclear power. But I upgraded the control panels, and the pilot interfaces - they’re easier to access and navigate. The cradles also have automatic disable features that I’ve adjusted to handle emergency situations better-”

Michael pauses, because Alex is staring at the place where the feet of the pilots go, where they hook in to control the foot movements of the Jaeger. It’s like he’s fallen back into a memory, and he’s no longer here, with Michael, listening as he rambles off all the adjustments and design modifications, but somewhere far away.

Lost in a memory.

“Alex?”

Carefully, Michael crosses over toward him, staying in Alex’ line of sight until he’s standing in front of him, and carefully places his hand on Alex’s arm. He watches as Alex slowly blinks - once, twice - and then shakes his head, as if clearing his head, and returning to the present.

“Sorry. This is uh- this must have-”

He’s stumbling, like he _ wants _ to say something but he’s holding back.

Michael stands, rooted to the spot, as Alex pulls away from him, walking toward the doorway to exit the Conn-Pod. He doesn’t follow, because he’s not even sure Alex _ wants _ him to follow. 

“Thanks for - for showing me, Guerin.”

Once the door closes behind Alex, Michael allows himself to fall against the wall, sliding to the cold metal of the floor. He’s not sure what else he expected, but maybe, _ maybe _, he thinks, Alex just needs time.

And he can do that. He can always give Alex time, if it’s what he needs.

Michael’s good at waiting.

\----

_ A month after graduation, Michael’s hand has gotten to the point where it no longer sends a jolt of pain through his arm every time he moves. Alex is sitting, leaning against the side of the truck, Michael’s head in his lap, Alex’s fingers lost in Michael’s curls, his fingertips gently scratching at Michael’s scalp. _

_ Michael knows Alex is supposed to start at the Academy in a couple weeks, though he doesn’t ask what happened that made Alex agree to chance his post-graduation plans. He knows, understands, that Jesse Manes is nothing short of what the worst of humanity can be - up there right alongside the foster homes Michael had been forced to endure all of his childhood. But they’ve got most of the summer together, even if Michael knows it won’t be enough. _

_ A lifetime with Alex wouldn’t be enough. _

_ Alex had originally planned to go with Liz on her road trip, eventually landing in some big city so he could do the one thing he’d always wanted to do - make music. It pains something deep inside Michael to know that he’s partially responsible for having that dream ripped from Alex. If Michael had just stayed away, if they hadn’t gone back to the shed, if Michael had been stronger- _

_ So he tries, desperately, to exist in that moment. To focus only on Alex’s fingers in his hair, on the sound of Alex’s voice as he talks. He doesn’t know how they’re going to make it work, but it doesn’t seem important in that moment. _

\----

Turns out, Michael doesn’t have to wait long.

A Category III kaiju, Tailspitter, emerges from the breach, and the Shatterdome erupts into well-organized chaos as Echo Brawler is called to be deployed. Michael had been working in his shop when the alarm had sounded, and drops everything when the announcement comes over the PA system, sprinting out of the room, and toward the loading bay. 

He watches from the side as they’re fitted into their drivesuits, and waits. It’s been eight weeks since the last attack, and Liz has furiously been crunching numbers about when the attacks may happen, trying to get someone higher up to listen to her predictions. Michael stares at the countdown clock over the doorway, a smaller version of the one that hangs in the holding bay, reminding each and every person that lives and works at the Shatterdome just how long the quiet lasted _ this time _. 

“See you soon,” Isobel says, standing in front of him, helmet in hand.

Michael just nods. He hates this part. Hates that he has to watch them go out there, not knowing if this is going to be the last time he sees them alive.

After the door closes to the Conn-Pod, Michael stays where he is, until he feels someone lay a hand, soft and barely there, on his arm.

He doesn’t need to turn around to see who it is.

\----

Alex goes with him to the Control Room, where he plants himself behind Maria, listening to the voice transmission. It’s the smallest comfort, having Alex there, even with the tension and uneasiness between them that they still need to work out. Usually, he’s been up here alone until it becomes too much, and he retreats back to his shop on the ground floor, trying to block out any updates until Max and Isobel have returned, safe and sound and unharmed.

Something goes wrong this time, and it feels like his blood freezes in his veins.

\----

He tears his shop apart in anger, the only thing untouched is the drivesuit he’d designed for Alex. It’s protected in a corner, tucked away in a cabinet that he hasn’t destroyed in anger, because everything else is just a _ thing _, it doesn’t matter. But that drivesuit - it’s important. More important than everything else in his workshop, and even through drunken hazes, through all the times he’d been thinking of Alex, he’d never done anything to it, some part of him believing that as long as he had it, Alex would come back. 

Or at the very least, he’d have something to remind him of Alex.

Which is why it’s not surprising when he turns around to find Alex-fucking-Manes standing in the doorway to his mechanical shop. And Michael knows that look on his face, has been on the receiving end of it too many times not to be familiar with it. It’s confusion and disappointment and something else that he’s never quite been able to discern. 

“Are you done?”

“Fuck off,” Michael snaps, seriously considering slamming the door in Alex’s face.

“None of this is going to help them,” he replies, raising his eyebrows, eyes scanning over the destroyed shop. Michael rolls his eyes and takes a step toward Alex, not near enough to crowd into his space, but enough.

Fuck. Michael has _ missed _ him. It’s an always there, ever constant ache he feels when he’s not around Alex, but standing here, next to him, makes it all worse. He wants, desperately, to reach out and touch. To take Alex’s face, his stupid beautiful face, in his hands, and kiss him. Press their foreheads together, because there is something that Michael has never been able to explain, or rationalize away, how no matter what, Alex has this _ unexplainable _ ability to calm the chaos that Michael constantly feels.

The way his brain is unable to shut off, but there’s something about being in Alex’s presence that has always helped to calm the noise.

“Come on, I have an idea.”

Michael doesn’t argue, and they end up in the training room. Alex doesn’t go easy on him, immediately tossing a staff his way, and showing absolutely no mercy. Michael realizes, after the third point to Alex, that this is exactly what he needed. It allows him to get out of his own head, to focus singularly on one thing, and not worry about Max and Isobel, not worry about this world ending event, and not think about anything except the staff Alex is swinging at him, and the mat underneath him. 

When Alex knocks him on his ass for the fourth time, Michael finally just lays there, reveling in the temporary quiet of his mind. It takes a moment before Alex is standing over him, holding his hand out. 

Michael waves it off.

“Tell me about it,” Alex says as he drops onto the mat next to Michael.

“About what?”

Michael doesn’t need to look to know that Alex is rolling his eyes at him. He knows what Alex is asking about, he just wants to hear him say it.

“About the suit. About- about Cosmic Nomad.”

He closes his eyes for a moment before pushing himself up into a sitting position, so he’s looking at Alex. He can’t _ not _ look at Alex when he’s speaking to him. It’d be so much easier to just close his eyes and talk, but that’s never been what Michael has done.

“What do you want me to say, Alex? She’s been sitting in that hanger for three years. There’s a drivesuit in my shop that I’ve modified for you. You can-”

“No, I can’t.”

Stubborn Alex, like always. But Michael is determined this time.

“Yes,” Michael says, staring straight at Alex, and making sure he doesn’t look away. “You can.”

Alex shakes his head, scoffing, and Michael expects it. He knows it’s because Alex doesn’t believe in _ himself _ more than he doesn’t trust what Michael has created. Michael watches as Alex glances around the room, before settling back on Michael, a smile on his face, still shaking his head a bit, and Michael wants to kiss the daylights out of him.

“I’ll do a test run,” Alex starts, and Michael can tell he’s not going to like the rest of the sentence. “If you’re my co-pilot.”

Michael frowns, because for that they need-

“What do you think that was?” Alex continues, nodding toward the staffs on the ground. “I’ve always suspected, but it was good to confirm it.”

Michael thinks about leaning forward, about taking Alex’s face in his hands for the first time in _ years _, and kissing him. But the universe, it seems has other plans in that moment as Liz bursts into the room, hair wild, and a smile on her face.

“Michael!” She pauses, taking in the scene of them spread out on the floor. “Alex.”

“Hey Liz.”

“Isobel will be fine. She’s down in the infirmary now, Max is with her. Echo Brawler needs some repair work now, but I just thought you’d like to know - she’s gonna be fine.”

As Liz takes off, dashing back out of the doorway, Michael lets out a deep breath, because he knows they’ve been lucky. That nothing serious has happened to them before now. But he does know that it’s good that Alex was here this time, when he did need someone to calm him down, keep him from letting the rage he feels inside take over.

Michael stands up, pulling Alex with him, but doesn’t move, staying in Alex’s space, Michael still grasping Alex’s hands in his own. For a moment, he just stands there, taking Alex in, his messy black hair from their sparring session, the slight flush on his cheeks - leftover from sparring or from their conversation, Michael doesn’t care - and drops Alex’s hands, reaching up and taking Alex’s face in his hands and kissing him.

They can figure the rest out later.


End file.
